The Hamster Died!
by DSLeo
Summary: An AU look at Luke handling the possibility of fatherhood, set in S6, somewhat absurd as usual!


The Hamster Died!

Summary: A look at Luke's reaction to potential paternity. Set S6, and it is my usual loopy AU.

Genre: Humor/Angst

Rating: T

AN: On to the way I'd write it. If I could write it. Because seeing Luke freak out is fun.

GG GG GG

A kid had pulled his hair.

A weird-helmeted kid with eyeglasses and brown eyes.

Luke lay frozen in bed. Awake, staring at the ceiling, hiding panic and shakes by sheer force of will and six cups of chamomile tea.

Unfortunately, the tea meant he had to go to the bathroom. Again.

Chamomile tea had great qualities. Herbal, relaxing, all-natural, only a problem for people allergic to ragweed or whatever it was. Unfortunately, it was like any flavored water in the universe. You didn't so much drink it as rent it.

Lorelai's sleepy, "Babe?" sent him literally screaming a foot into the air.

He thumped into the wall, grabbing the towel rack for support, a hand to his chest. The shakes escaped, along with the panic, in a wheezy, " _Don't do that!_ "

Eyebrows high, chin hanging low, Lorelai stared from him to the toilet, and cautiously joked, "See, that's why we girls sit down. Um. What's going on?"

He started to say "Nothing" and "Nightmare."

What came out was "Nothere."

Lorelai yawned enormously, pushed her hair from her drowsy blue eyes, and leaned insolently against the door frame. Crossing her arms, she sniffed, "Try again. You've been a wreck. A certified train wreck. Ever since I told you the wedding was all magically planned, you've been this zombie-robot thing." She gestured at him lazily. "I _do_ work with Sookie, y'know. I've seen terror. It's in the eyes of the kitchen staff whenever she's been pregnant. That, mister?" She stabbed an index finger toward his face. "That is terror. So you're not leaving this bathroom until…"

Luke brushed past her, cringing from even touching her sleeve. "You're insane."

"Hey, babe, I'm diagnosed," chirped Lorelai coolly, turning to study him as he yanked on a t-shirt. "You're in denial. Now, you can walk out and not tell me what's going on, or we can fight and freak out and end up losing the happy, and I really like the happy, or we can talk."

"We are happy," snapped Luke defensively, falling into Rant Stance, lacking only his order pad and ball cap to complete the picture.

"I know," replied Lorelai, eyes glinting as she prowled past him to block the bedroom door. "Uh-uh. Talk."

"My actions speak for me, and my actions are, I gotta get to the diner and open."

"Uh-huh. An hour early."

Trapped, Luke began to hyperventilate. She couldn't know. He didn't know. No one knew. This wasn't real. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. Luke Danes, father? To some kid he didn't know about? By an ex-girlfriend he didn't think about? But now this brown-eyed kid showed up, and his world was more upside down than when Rory stole a yacht and Lorelai proposed and he was babbling and…

"I killed the hamster!" he squawked, and threw his arms over his head.

As the silence dragged on, he peeked out. He lowered his arms.

Lorelai's face shouted _Oh. My. God._ Or, possibly, _Our wedding plans make him think about dead rodents?!_

He swallowed air. Oxygen tried to fizz into his blood. He kept gulping until he saw the tsunami of insecurities mounting behind Lorelai's deceptively calm features. He had to tell her. His mind screamed at him to tell her the truth.

His mouth gave it a shot, and missed.

"I was seven, we had a hamster, I killed the hamster, I can't be a father, I couldn't even keep a hamster alive! They weigh less than a stick of butter, how can I be a dad if I killed a stick of butter!"

Lorelai sank slowly to the floor, expressionless, and remarked steadily, "I don't remember this part of the kids discussion before."

Luke collapsed to the bed, hands clutching his thinning hair. Sweat poured from him, chilling him. "I might already have a kid."

The door thudded. Lorelai had attempted to back through it, but she hadn't yet managed the knack of teleportation. All she accomplished was noise.

Hands flapping, Luke gabbled, "She came in and she had this bizarre helmet on her head and she says her mom is my ex-girlfriend and she took my hair and she's testing the DNA to find out what man is her father and I don't know what to do and I can't be a dad when the hamster died!"

For the first time in his life, Luke saw the expression he himself wore during one of Lorelai's famous rambling anxiety-laden rants. Consternation twisting the forehead, worry in the eyes, and something around the mouth that spoke of silent whiskey-tango-foxtrot disbelief. The kind that called for the nice young men in little white coats who led people to softly padded rooms with very good medication, indeed.

She drew in a breath, loud and rasping.

He didn't cower, but only because he didn't remember how.

"Rachel?"

"Oh crap," said Luke, as a new pit opened before him, and clenched his fists on his knees. "Ah. No. Um. We broke up not long before, uh, you moved here. To the house, I mean. Not to Stars Hollow. Because that would've been…"

"Luke."

The single stony word yanked his spine into ramrod alignment. "Anna Nardini, owns a store in Woodbridge, the time frame fits, we broke up because she wasn't interested in, um…" Ears hot red, Luke fumbled for a graceful way to say what had to be said.

"She wasn't monogamous, yes, I understood that part from the need to DNA test more than one man to determine paternity."

"Oh God," whimpered Luke into his hands, "you sound like your father."

"Well, I could go for Emily if you'd prefer."

Luke's right hand shot out, palm up in a plea. "No!"

""Okay. So you didn't mention this five minutes after it happened because...?"

Luke remembered how to cower. "I didn't want to. Because I can't. And if I am, she never said. And I killed the hamster! I mean, okay, a goldfish, nearly anything kills those, you can look at 'em funny, they're fish, but it's a glorified mouse, how do you kill a glorified mouse named Willie Mays?"

"I don't know," answered Lorelai with seeming thought. "I'm notorious for offing animals, but I swear it's… Hey. Wait. You've mocked me about baby chicks and hamsters and rabbits and the rabbit was sick and the hamster was forever ago and I could barely feed me and Rory, and the turtle, okay, that turtle was a… Where was I going?"

"About to tell me," groaned Luke dismally and rubbed his palms over his stubble, "that someone who killed a hamster shouldn't mock people whose hamster died. Of mysterious causes."

"Exactly!" accused Lorelai and set her jaw in what could have been anger, or an epic crying fit trying not to happen. "Also, no more secrets, and hello? You. Might. Have. A. Kid!"

Shoulders pulled to his ears, Luke muttered, "Please don't…"

"You hypocrite!"

"Aw geez," he mourned for his lost integrity, and slid to the floor to take her fists into his hands. "Lorelai. Sweetheart. Look at me. Do I look like I'm handling this well?"

She glared, not entirely without malice, then mumbled, "No."

"Okay, because, hey, I almost killed Paul Anka, that was bad enough."

Lorelai shrugged slightly, chin tight to her chest. "Yeah. Well, he ate chocolate. It happens. You saved him. And he's okay. So what does this mean?"

Scratching at his neck, Luke offered, "That the dog's alive?"

The growl sounded canine. It was, in fact, Lorelai. "Anna. You still talk to her? See her? Good terms? Bad terms? No terms? Any terms? I mean, Rachel's never around but if she drops a postcard from Oingo-Boingo or wherever, I don't worry. Is this Anna a worry? Is that why you're scared about the wedding? Is it because it's to me? And now you remember her and…"

Stoicism was for daylight and less trying circumstances. Luke's mouth opened all on its own to spill the beans. "I'm scared that I'm really so much like Uncle Louie nobody could even tell me I have a kid."

"Oh babe," whispered Lorelai, before enfolding him in her arms, rubbing her hands along his back in small circles. "We already know you're not Uncle Louie, and, yeah, okay, maybe we should never have hamsters, but that doesn't mean you'll be a bad father. Unless I'm a bad mother, am I a bad mom, because…"

Luke grabbed her, squeezing a "Meep!" out of her as he crushed her to him, voice shaking. "You. Are. A. Good. Mom. It's just… Lorelai, I couldn't even… The hamster _died_!"

"Okay. And he was laid to rest. And he went to hamster heaven. When's the DNA come in?"

"Science fair," he mumbled hopelessly into her curls, scented sweetly of her shampoo and unique personal musk. "Exhibit. Me. DNA. Hair. Pink helmet."

"Oh boy," said Lorelai, and stroked his head lightly. "Okay, well, let's just… Go to the science fair and see. Okay? I'm with you, babe. Right here. And, well, I don't approve of keeping fathers from children, but I have to admit, life was less complicated without Chris around."

The hated name elicited a snarl.

"Yeah, I know, Chris is evil and bad, my point is, it's not just about the dad. It's about the kids, and the moms, and how messed up your head gets wondering how to do what's best, and sometimes you don't know the mistake is a mistake until later. Believe me, I know. Single mom thing? Not so fun. Trying to be a mom when you're a kid? Really not fun. I know I'm messed up, hey, I own it, so maybe that's what's gone on with… Annie?"

"Anna," Luke corrected through a mouthful of her hair.

"Anna. You've got a fiancée, a business, community support, you're _you_." She pulled back and kissed him lightly. She put her forehead to his. "It'll be okay. We'll make it be okay."

The last panic trickled away, leaving Luke exhausted, shuddering with a need for sleep and cuddling.

"I'll call Caesar to open for you," said Lorelai, pulling him to his feet and toward the bed. "C'mon, I could use a good snuggle."

Luke Danes allowed himself a moment of pure sentimental fluffiness. "I love you. Especially because I know right now the last thing you want to do is go back to sleep."

"Oh? What do I want to do?"

"Talk this to death," he predicted glumly, and smiled suddenly. "Thanks. For not doing that."

"Hush, come sleep," ordered his fiancée with gentle authority. "We can talk it to death when we know what there is to talk _about_."

Hoping she took it as affectionately as he intended, Luke snickered, "When did you get all sensible and mature?"

"Lack of coffee to the brain."

Luke mentally noted to start diluting her brew with decaf. Just in case she wasn't joking.

GG GG GG

True to form, Lorelai wanted to talk it to death.

She was jabbering at sixty words a minute, half of them slurred from her excitement and anxiety, and wriggling distractingly because not even she could manage pacing while seated in his truck.

Luke clung white-knuckled to the steering wheel. His whole being focused on one special, sacred word: _Home_.

He pulled in alongside Lorelai's jeep, cut the engine, and undid the seatbelt.

Suddenly, silence struck harder than lightning.

Lorelai burst into tears.

Although that happened ten minutes before he'd expected it to, Luke nonetheless had come prepared. He pushed some tissues to her and rubbed her shoulder. His own body began to tremble, and blood seemed to be rushing and flooding and disappearing from his head all at the same time. Reality, like that silence, had hit.

"I thought she'd be your kid," wailed Lorelai, "and you wouldn't want me anymore!"

"Okay, in what crazy-verse does me being a dad mean not wanting to be with you? And… C'mon, Paris told Rory told you, I have blue eyes, Anna has blue eyes, April's eyes are brown. I remember that part of high school biology, you can't…"

"You can," his future wife sobbed, "Paris sent me an e-mail about how there's this thing where each parent has this genetic thing and then two blue-eyed people can have a brown-eyed kid and it's got to do with loci on chromosomes and RCA factors or whatever it was, and I can't believe she's really not yours, it's like this big cosmic power reached out and said, no, we won't hit Lorelai with an asteroid this time!"

Eyes squeezed tightly closed against this torrent, Luke groused to her, "No more Discovery Channel for you. Ever. And Paris is banned from the diner."

"She never goes to the diner."

"Yeah, well, it's the principle."

Sniffling and hiccupping, Lorelai bawled out a last, "But she's so _cute_! She's like this science-nerd version of Rory!"

"Definitely not my kid," confirmed Luke, hoping to cheer her and achieving a handful of used tissues in his hand instead. A tightness in his chest released its last tiny shred of a grip as he added, "And if we have a brown-eyed kid, good to know how it happened."

Lorelai gasped. "Jess! What about…"

"What about Jess?"

"Liz. His dad. The picture. California. All the…" She pointed to her own eyes, tissues wafting from her clenched hands. "Blue."

Luke adjusted his ball cap and snorted. "Yeah, well, those would be colored contact lenses. I remember Liz going on and on and…" He shivered in revulsion. "Gah. On about his big romantic dark eyes."

Lorelai's nose wrinkled. "Well, ew. She went gooey about him to her brother? I thought she only started that with TJ."

Head falling back, Luke reached over and took her nearer hand. "Nope. Way too much information."

Under his touch, Lorelai calmed, or perhaps she simply ran out of emotional energy.

"Are you sad?" she asked quietly, twisting to face him. "Because if she was your kid, I mean, if she'd turned out to be… I say you'd be a great dad, and hey, I know how to raise a daughter, I could tell you how wacky it gets in the funhouse." She rapped her skull with her free hand. "Single motherhood and sanity don't really go together too well. So I could've helped you figure out Anna's thinking or…"

"I know you would've. I know."

"Are you sad?"

Surprised that she hadn't allowed herself to be distracted, Luke admitted uneasily, "Yeah. I am. A little." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the finger with the shiny ring. "But we'll have kids."

"But no hamsters."

Luke exhaled fervent agreement. "No hamsters."

"Because hamsters die even more easily than goldfish."

Memory arose and then ran down Luke's spine in a chill.

"You had a pet goldfish, Mr. Mock-the-Named-Fish?"

Defeated, Luke allowed a stiff, "It came before the hamster."

Lorelai nodded sagely, then opened the door of the truck, legs swinging out. "And after the hamster?"

"Pets. Bad."

"Ah, there's my monosyllable man," cooed Lorelai. "Beer and pizza? You can order the kind with the tofu and pineapple."

A thousand sensible reasons to avoid pizza came to Luke's mind.

One reason shouted down the rest.

He was not yet a father.

Unsure how he felt about that, Luke decided, "Yeah. Tofu. Pineapple. Sounds good. No movies. I get wallowing rights."

"We have wallowing rights?"

"As of now we do," declared Luke, and carefully locked the truck because that was what he did. "And I wallow with ESPN." At her moue of disgust, Luke reminded her, "I sat through that Hubby and Katie movie. And the one with the wackos who drove off a cliff in a perfectly good car."

Mouth upside down, Lorelai grumbled, "Fine. ESPN. I'll surf the internet." She tossed him an unexpected cheeky grin over one shoulder as she unlocked the door to the house. "And watch cute hamster videos."

Another man might have smacked himself upside the head. Or retreated to his apartment. Or, possibly, fled screaming.

Luke quietly smiled a small smile to himself. How Lorelai's brand of weird ended up bringing things back to normal would always baffle him. Even if it did involve confessions of hamster-cide.

GG GG GG

AN: I recently re-watched the Paul Anka adoption episode and this somehow evolved. The genetic occurrence that allows two blue-eyed people to have a brown-eyed child does, in fact, exist. Eye color being more complicated than biology class leads most to believe, there are all sorts of genetic variations leading to the rainbow of eye colors, but brown gene dominance is typical. Not without fail, but typical. The actress playing April seemed to be brown-eyed, and I used that as a plot device in this fic. (I actually don't know if she is, by the way. I just ran with it.)


End file.
